


Distrust Explained

by BuffyRowan



Category: Father Brown (2013), The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen, Just hinting, really a stealth crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 06:03:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12184341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyRowan/pseuds/BuffyRowan
Summary: Father Brown tries to do a good deed, and learns something about the Inspector in the process





	Distrust Explained

Mrs. McCarthy cornered him in the kitchen, “I know the Good Lord preached forgiveness and turning the other cheek, but this is above and beyond, Father. That Inspector butts heads with you every time you cross paths, and he always seems to think the worst of you. Why on earth would you practically twist the man’s arm to spend his recovery here with you?”

He looked up from arranging some tea and toast on a tray, “That is precisely why, Mrs. McCarthy. I’m hoping that it will help improve relations between us.” He picked up the tray and headed for the stairs, “Besides, the man is a bachelor. If I hadn’t assured the nurses that there would be someone able to look after him, they’d have kept him in hospital. And I truly don’t think he was improving any staying in there.”

She sighed and shook her head, “Well, ‘tis a fine bit of Christian charity, no doubt. I’m off home for my supper. When I come in the morning I’ll fix a pot of my mother’s soup, ‘tis just the thing to help get him back on his feet.”

“Thank you, I shall depend on you and Suzie to help me get our Inspector back on his feet.” Father Brown nodded as the older woman left, more focused on navigating the old, uneven stairs without spilling the tea. 

Father Brown quietly knocked, but entered when he received no reply. Inspector Valentine lay on the narrow bed in one of the presbytery’s spare bedrooms, propped up by several pillows and rugs. The blankets had fallen a bit, revealing the man’s shoulders and the top of the bandages wrapped around his stomach. He was breathing slowly, the accompanying rattle betraying the pernicious hold the pneumonia kept on his lungs. Valentine had been apprehending a black marketer when the criminal had fired several shots. The man had missed, but one of the bullets had ricocheted off a brick wall and struck the Inspector low on his back. It hadn’t been deep, and the doctor had been planning to discharge Valentine after a few days, only the Inspector had developed pneumonia. Another few days, and Valentine was not improving as quickly as the doctor wanted, while the Inspector had done everything but threaten death and dismemberment to be allowed to leave.

Father Brown set the tray on top of the dresser, then moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Valentine seemed to be sleeping, though not very peacefully. His fever had risen again, if the sheet on sweat on his brow was anything to go by. The priest reached to pour some water into the basin on the small table next to the bed, then dipped a cloth into the cool water. He gently ran the cloth over the other man’s face and shoulders, trying to cool the fever. 

At first Father Brown thought that the cool cloth had woken the Inspector, but when he looked the man’s eyes were still closed and he gave all appearance of still being asleep. He would have ignored the mumbled words, knowing that there was rarely any coherence in this kind of sleeptalk, except the that he realized the younger man was speaking French. Quite fluent French. Fluent, but not the kind of French spoken today. Everyone in town knew that Inspector Valentine knew only a handful of words in French and Polish, and spoke them with a most unfortunate accent. But at this moment, Inspector Valentine was speaking quite beautifully, using turns of phrase at least a century out of date.

Over the course of the night, the Inspector slept more or less quietly, broken by a number of intervals of this sort of sleep mumbling. Father Brown listened to it all, from pleas for forgiveness for hiding a truth, to orders for watching certain members of court, to one-sided arguments about politics and morality. Four names were spoken with the fond exasperation of fathers and indulgent superior officers everywhere. One name was spoken with an excess of emotion, no matter which emotion it was at the time. 

Around dawn the Inspector’s fever seemed to break permanently, and he eased into a more restful-seeming true sleep. Father Brown slipped quietly out of the room and down into his study. He thoughtfully pulled an old history book off the shelf, leafing thoughtfully to a very specific section. He scanned through the chapter, refreshing his memory of the names of some of the principal figures in the rule of King Louis XIII of France.

Umesh and he had spoken of their religions a time or two, unearthing similarities and trying to reconcile the differences. On the topic of reincarnation Father Brown had remained skeptical, though he now acknowledged that he might have to give the matter a great deal more thought. It appeared that Inspector Valentine might be an older soul. One that would have a very good reason to distrust Catholic priests, especially ones of a certain level of intelligence and ability with people.

**Author's Note:**

> They never explain it in the show, why Inspector Valentine is so hostile towards Father Brown, so willing to believe the worst of him. So, an injury in a specific place, a fever, and a reason for a soul to distrust a man is explained


End file.
